COMPANY GIRLS PART ONE

(F/F; illustrated)

I met Gale for the first time in the elevator of the building I work in. I was a secretary in a insurance company office and at first I thought she was just another nine to fiver. Except that she dressed very casually and seemed kind of street tough. Like she'd maybe be more at home in a pool hall than in a typing pool. So I was doubly surprised to discover she had her own internet company up on one of the top floors. I only found out because we happened to be sitting at the same table in the building cafeteria one lunch break and got chatting. Later on I realized it had been Gale who'd come and sat with me, not the other way around, but that wasn't something I picked up on then.

Right there and then she was a total stranger, apart from our saying "hi" and "hello" to each other in the elevator a few times. But we chatted, the way you do over a coffee, and then it came out about how she had her own company and suite of offices way up there on the top floors. Truth to tell, I was a tad skeptical and I guess it must have shown because Gale invited me to come up and take a look around after quitting time at my place.

So when it hit five I hit the 'up' button on the elevator instead of going down: one minute later and my skepticism was down and out as well. Whether or not Gale actually owned the company there was no doubt at all that the dozen computer geeks in the offices treated her as the boss lady. As for the fixtures and fittings, everything was top quality, from the resolution of the computer screens right down to wastepaper bins with the company logo imprinted on them. The logo was a drawing of a young dude with wings on his heels and his helmet.

"Hermes, the messenger of the Greek gods," Gale had explained. "You see the stick he's carrying with the snakes twisted around it? That's the Greek symbol for medicine, and the roll of parchment in his other hand is meant to show we're in the publishing business."

She'd grinned at my dumb look: "The medical industry around this state uses a zillion forms every day and every doctor's office and hospital comes to a stop if it runs out of any of them. We have warehouses all over the state filled with every kind of health industry form. Any time any medical administrator suddenly realizes he or she is running out of the right kind of paperwork they can log onto our web site and tell us what forms they want: then we courier them to where they're wanted straight away. It's a very customer orientated business, but a very well paying one. My guys and gals are the ones with the Porsches parked down in the basement, you'll notice."

"Gee" was all I could say.

No fancy cars were heading my way, not in my crummy job. It was a good day for me if I managed to get a seat on the subway. And here was Gale, leaning back in her boss's seat, a hand tooled black leather swivel seat, in her own office, obviously in complete control of her company and everybody working in it. Even if she still seemed a kind of a round peg in a square hole it all seemed to be working out real fine for her. And if you're perhaps thinking I was as envious of her and sore at myself, well, I won't argue. Then she said something which had me listening very hard to every word.

"Truth to tell, Philippa, we might have a few more openings coming along here within a week or so. The people we take on would have a great chance of getting in on e-commerce on the ground floor." She'd laughed and glanced out of her window across the city skyline. "OK, maybe I should say on the top floor. I want to grow the business into other states, so I need some salespeople to do the legwork out there in the great big medical world. And since so many of our customers are guys I'm all for having some attractive legs to do that legwork. Long hours, lots of travel, plenty of work, but great paychecks and maybe a chance to meet a handsome doctor or two on the way through. Think you might be interested?"

Only enough to kill for it. That was what I told Gale.

"How about your partner. How would he feel about you being away from home so much?"

I told her the truth, that there was nobody that special in my life

She seemed more interested then and gave me a card with her address on it. "I'm all booked out until the weekend but if you'd like to drop by on Saturday afternoon about four we can talk some more. Have a few drinks and see how things stack up. That OK with you, Philippa?"

"It's fine," I confirmed, very sincerely, "Just fine."

I arrived on time and if Gale's office had impressed me her apartment took my breath away. It seemed as if she lived on her own, the same as I did, but unlike me her income was ample enough for a lifestyle that fell somewhere between luxury and opulence. Yet all the time we were talking I still had this impression that this wasn't a lifestyle she'd been brought up in. Especially when I noticed a tattoo on one of her arms. So, naturally, I tried to satisfy my curiosity about her background with some questions. Not that it did me any good because Gale neatly sidestepped them. Until I was about to leave, and it seemed I'd got the job offer in my pocket. Which was right where I wanted it with the kind of money that Gale was offering. And then, when everything looked OK, Gale finally gave out a little bit about herself.

"Philippa, I guess you're wondering how a girl like me from the wrong side of the tracks got the money to set up my own company?"

"Well, it crossed my mind," I admitted.

"OK, I'll tell you as much as I can, and that is that I ran pretty wild when I was younger. I did a lot of wheeling and dealing on the street, and I wasn't a hooker. I guess you can work out what I'm talking about. Anyway, I got to the stage where I was handling some big deals and did well out of them. And then I walked away from the business, from the whole scene, and went into a legitimate investment. All that is OK, but it's left me with a problem. The guys I worked with before don't like people leaving them. It's not a thing that happens often and I had to do some pretty hard bargaining to get off the hook and out of the crew. You understand what I'm saying?"

I nodded again: it seemed clear enough that Gale was telling me she'd been in the drug business, made her pile and gotten out, but still knew enough to make a lot of her drug pushing contacts wary of her maybe blowing the whistle on them sometime.

"OK, so to be totally straight with you, Philippa, a big slice of the company is owned by the main guy I used to deal for. That way he gets his profits and he gets to feel I'm still on his team. Maybe I don't carry the ball anymore but he knows where I am and what I'm doing. And he also knows he has enough insurance on me to feel comfortable about things. Do you understand that?"

"No, I guess not," I admitted.

It was about then I decided I'd maybe had too many bourbons for one afternoon. I was also having to listen to the devil and the angel on my shoulders. The angel was telling me I didn't want to have anything to do with anybody who'd been in the drug business. Then I thought about what it would be like to have a job I'd actually enjoy doing and the little devil started kicking a little angel ass.

Gale spread her hands out wide apart, her head tilted over and a half smile on her lips, like an Arab shopkeeper getting ready for some enjoyable haggling over a price. "Insurance in this case is having something on file about the other guy that he -- or she -- wouldn't want passed around. Something which would lose them a lot of respect. If I tried to pull anything on my main man he'd be able to pull my file and do me some real damage. Not only that, but he insists that I provide some kind of insurance to him for everybody who comes to work for me. Philippa, I really do want you to work for me, I do want to make you rich, but I need something I can show to the man as proof that you won't be trying to gas us. Which in your case is a real problem."

"Excuse me?"

Gale's smile turned into a rueful wince: "I've run a background check on you as a prospective employee, Philippa, and I've never spent so much money for so small a result. The inquiry agent I hired came back and suggested that maybe we should send your report to the Vatican and see if you could be put in line to be made a saint. Because if you've ever done anything wrong in your life nobody seems to have noticed it."

I was totally surprised. Surprised that Gale would have run a check on me, and done it so quickly. But what was really surprising was that my cheeks were burning with embarrassment at being discovered as an innocent abroad. Perhaps that was the very mark of my innocence, especially when I had to bite back the words "I'm sorry", which I was about to say.

Well, and I was truly sorry: it seemed like the best chance I'd ever had in my entire life was about to go begging, and all because I'd never had the initiative to commit a crime or do the wrong thing sometime. Just my luck!

"Don't look so miserable," Gale laughed. "Doing something wrong is the easiest thing in the world, it's doing the good things which are hard. We can get this little problem fixed this afternoon without even leaving the apartment."

"What do you mean? What do you want me to do?" I asked her.

"Just trust me, Philippa, that's all. I'm going to give you a makeover that will make you look a very sexy girl. And you can start by getting changed into something less formal."

It was the strangest experience. She went off into another room and came back carrying a small laundry basket with all kinds of odds and ends in it. "OK, Philippa, I want you to put these on and see what you look like. I'll be back in five minutes and when I get back I want to see you looking like Cinderella after the Fairy Godmother has waved her wand around."

"But what's it all about?" I asked her.

Gale had laughed: "It's all about playing Mistress and Slave, sweetie. And if you really want the job I'm offering I guess you know which role is reserved for you. Now you're down to four and a half minutes and after that you'll either be changed or out the door. And no briefs, sweetie, no briefs, that's your first order. I want to see you bare assed."

Well, that was laying it on the line and I almost made a bolt for the door there and then without waiting to pushed towards it. But I didn't. Maybe I should make it simple and say that I stayed on because I wanted that job. Sure, that was part of it but there was more. Maybe meeting with somebody like Gale for the first time, somebody who was a success and a boss instead of just another worker. I admired her and wanted the chance she might offer me to get on the same path. So I stripped off and started putting on the things in the basket. It seemed like it was high time to cross a few tracks myself.

I felt like I was a kid again and playing at dress up with my older sister's clothes. A pink suspender belt and white stockings, and a pair of white high heels. And that was more than enough to make me feel quite immoral, having to wear those things with no underwear. Although I kept my bra on as Gale hadn't told me to take it off. There were also some other things left lying in the basket, like stage props. A long string of pearls, and two white leather belts as well. I knew what to do with them but not with the coil of rope that was left in the basket after I'd put everything else on. All I could do with that was to run my fingers over it and go weak at the knees. Because I already knew then what Gale was planning to do with me.

If I hadn't known before then I certainly would have done when she came clumping back into the room wearing nothing but a dark negligee, dark stockings and knee high black boots. The only props missing were a whip and a Nazi hat and I almost started giggling, but I guessed that would be the wrong thing to do. Instead I just sat on the edge of my chair trying to look demure and with my legs held very close together.

Gale reached down and caught my elbow in a firm grip: "Come on, honey, I'll show you the playpen."

The playpen turned out to be an alcove with a small bed in it and all kinds of odds and ends hanging from the ceiling on thin chains. It wasn't an attempt at interior furnishing which impressed me very much, though I have to admit that most of my attention was on the video camera standing on a tripod in one corner of the small room.

Gale was still holding firmly onto my elbow and steered me towards the end of the bed. "Sit down there." Two things I noticed straight away: one was that I was staring straight into the camera's lens; the other was that Gale had brought the coil of rope with her. Then I noticed something else, that the recording light on the camera was glowing.

Gale sat down beside me on the bed. "Have you ever performed in front of a camera before, Philippa?" she asked me.

My throat was dry, I felt nervous and I shook my head without saying anything.

"There's no need to freak out," Gale said quietly. "What I want you to do is to pretend that I'm a potential customer for the company and no matter what happens, you're going to make me happy. You understand that, Philippa?"

"Yes," I answered her. "Yes, I understand that."

That was what I said, and I thought I meant it, yet when Gale dropped her hand on my shoulder I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"My, aren't you the touchy one," Gale commented. "You're as nervous as a virgin in a whorehouse." Then she giggled. "Don't worry, honey, I'm not going to pop your cherry."

One of her fingers sneaked underneath my bra strap, lifted it a fraction, then eased it over my shoulder. "There's no need to keep this thing on, Philippa, we're all Girlsimages together, aren't we?"

Her fingers slid the strap down further, as far as my elbow, and the cup fell clear, revealing my left boob. Gale stared at it and almost seemed to be licking her lips. It felt like she was the wolf and I was a potential Red Riding Hoodburger. Even so, I still couldn't believe she was interested in me -- not in that way.

"Gale ... ?" My throat seemed even drier now. But she was expecting the question I didn't want to ask.

"Don't worry, sweetie, we're just having some fun making a tape, that's all. But we need to get this thing off first."

She took my bra off and then moved closer to me. "Smile at the camera, Philippa. Show how happy we are together."

It seemed like an odd thing to say but I smiled as she wanted me to. It was the strangest feeling to be looking into the camera's eye with hardly anything on, very embarrassing, and even more embarrassing when Gale threw one of her heavy boots over my left thigh and held my legs wide open. What had started out as informal job interview was turning out to something like a audition for a centerfold shot. This was all totally wacky but maybe it was the sort of thing that rich and successful people did.

"You're going to show this to other people?" I asked. "To some guys?" It seemed impossible to believe.

"That's right. You want me to come back and tell you everything they say about you while they were watching it? Like what a horny chick you are?"

"Are you sure they won't be laughing at me?" I asked.

"Don't play yourself, Philippa, you're a real good looker. Come on, let's give them something to sweat on," Gale encouraged me. "They'll go apeshit when they see me doing this to you, honey."

I guess I'd been about three-quarters expecting it but even so it was a shock when she began fondling one of my breasts. I'd always been nervous about letting a guy do that, let alone a girl, and I was frightened of her advances. Frightened, and ashamed, and when I made an effort to get loose Gale dug her sharp fingernails in around my nipple.

"Relax, relax, this is your lucky day, honeypot," she whispered, just like a man might have said to me in the same situation.

What could I do? Get into a struggle with those nails still hooked into me? Tell her to get her hand off me because I'd changed my mind and didn't want a great new job after all? Neither of those alternatives seemed like a good choice. So I kind of accepted things going on the way they were while not giving out any body language which would suggest I was enjoying Gale's touch. But it turned out to be hard to go with the flow when the current started getting a lot stronger. Because Gale took hold of my other tit and held it firmly while she ran her tongue over and around my nipple.

What was so strange that except for her long nails it felt just like having a man starting in on some serious foreplay. In fact the only way I could deal with it was to close my eyes and try to pretend that it was a guy coming on at me. But it wasn't an easy self deception to make with the sweet scent of Gale's expensive perfume in my nostrils. Trying as much as I could not to protest, I still heard my voice whimpering like a kicked puppy's.

"Oh dear," Gale whispered smoothly, "It seems like we'll have to undertake a little personality adjustment here." She picked up the coil of rope and ran it through the fingers of both hands like the head of a lynch mob picking out a strong looking tree branch.

"OK, Pauline, lie down on the bed on your stomach and put your hands behind your back. We're now going to make this tape a hell of a lot more interesting for the lucky guys who get to see you getting your new job."

The bitch could see right through me, she knew how desperate I was to achieve some thing, to be somebody. So I didn't utter one word of useless protest and I didn't try to leave. What I did do was to lie down on the bed and let Gale truss my wrists up behind my back. It was no play acting either: she knew her knots like a sailor and by the time she'd finished I was as helpless as if I'd been handcuffed.

Afterwards I could hear her boots hitting the carpet as she walked around the bed. Walking as in like a wrestler walking around a ring after he's just thrown his opponent over the ropes: more of a kind of triumphal strut. Then she dropped her weight heavily on the bed beside me.

"Looks as if Thanksgiving is here early this year, Philippa. Let's see how the turkey feels."

Her fingers touched my back, ran down over my cheeks and then squeezed one of them as if I really was some piece of flesh to be mauled around before being bought. And, once again, I wished that Gale would cut her nails shorter and blunter. She made me yelp as they dug in deeply.

"Aw shit, I'm sorry, honeybunch," she said, half laughing. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Let me make it up with a little tender loving care down here."

I couldn't help but give a gasp of protest as those nails moved lower yet, dancing and fluttering between the insides of my thighs like trapped butterflies.

All that did though was to make Gail seem more interested in me. Her fingers began to stroke me like a lover's, at the highest and smoothest part of my leg. I didn't dare to close my thighs, as much as I disliked what she was doing. But when her thumb tickled my clit I couldn't stop myself from whining: "No, no!"

Gale snorted in what sounded like contempt: "Oh dear, my little Barbie doll doesn't want Mama to play with her, hey? Well, I've got just the thing to beat the arguments out of you with, honeybunch. I think it's time your ass met Mr Hairbrush."

She was going to spank me? Nobody had ever done anything like that me, never. It couldn't be true.

It was true, as real and substantial as the wooden hairbrush that Gale took out from underneath the bed, held up in front of my face, and then slapped down lightly on my bottom.

"OK, Philippa, I've got all evening, a strong arm and I guarantee your ass will wear out before this brush does. So you just let me know when you're ready."

"Ready for what?"

"Ready to fuck with me, darling. I'm going to make a real woman out of you."

"I'm not into that scene . . . ooowww!"

I'd had no idea that a brush could hurt so much from one slap. It did though and one thing was plain from the start, that Gale's boasts about the strength of her arms were well justified.

"Oh, I just love it when Girlsimages like you play hard to get, Philippa. Now grit your teeth because here come de judge!"

It wasn't a wild, hurried kind of a punishment. That was what I was expecting but Gale worked differently. Hard strokes, painful strokes, but delivered with a pause between each one, and every impact on a slightly different place at a slightly different angle. She didn't say anything either, just grunting a little with her own efforts, as though doing some kind of hard working chore, like a third world woman slapping laundry on river rocks to get it clean.

At first all I could think about was the pain, because each impact did hurt, and I cried out at each one. Then, as Gale kept on paddling my butt, there seemed to be some kind of a numbing effect which made each individual blow not so bad but had all my ass glowing as if I was standing in front of a roaring fire with my panties down.

"Oooh, Pauline, the guys are so going to enjoy watching this," Gale cooed softly in my ear as she kept on administering the punishment.

You know how sometimes you can realize something which can turn your ideas upside down and inside out? It was like that for me right then, because I suddenly had a picture in my mind, like I was watching it on a TV screen. And what I was seeing on the screen was a bunch of men in a darkened room, and they were all watching a TV screen. Only what was on their screen was me, getting spanked, my hands bound, my ass cheeks glowing red and shivering as I wriggled around on top of Gale's bed. The odd thing in what I was seeing on my mind's screen was that although the guys' faces were in the shadows, yet I could see each one of them had his hand on his exposed cock, working it urgently in his excitement as he witnessed my humiliation.

It should have been a disgusting thought. Maybe it would have been before, in Gale's phrase "I'd met Mr Hairbrush." But right then and there the thought of being able to turn on a bunch of men watching my spanking had me suddenly becoming as wet as a damp sponge, and if I had been in a room with a bunch of hard cocks I'd have jumped on top of the nearest one without even bothering to say "Have a nice day" to whoever owned it.

Maybe there was a change in the noises I was making which tipped Gale off about what was happening. In any case she put down the brush and slipped her fingers back between my legs and upwards, checking for what she found, then giggling.

"Philly, you are a filly after all," was her comment. "Now let's see if your tits are getting as turned on as the rest of you."

She half rolled me onto my side, reached down and began fondling one of my tits again. But this time I didn't try to stop her, and this time she could feel the taut fleshline around my nipple.

"I've got you now, haven't I, Miss 'never been fucked except on a Sunday after church'. I've got you just where I want you."

Gale stood up, pulled off her negligee, dropped it on the floor and knelt down on the bed once more. Then she took hold of me again, not to fondle but to jerk on my boob as if she wanted to pull it free from the rest of me. The pain was enough to make me scream out her name.

"Oh no, not Gale anymore," she rebuked me. "From now on, you call me Mistress. And if you've got any problems with that I think you'll find I can get you to do whatever I want you to. You've met Mr Hairbrush, so now you can meet Mr Pants Hanger."

Pants hanger? What was she talking about? I soon found out because that was what she took out from underneath the bed. A two dollar pants hanger with a spring clip on each end.

Gale smiled and held the clips close to my bust, adjusting the width of the hangar so that the clips were exactly aligned with the tips of my breasts. Then she took a clip in each hand, opened them and then snapped them down onto my nipples. It hurt, of course, though that was what I'd come to expect from everything that Gale did.

"You look a lot better now, Philly," she gloated as she stared down at me. Her eyes were brighter than I remembered seeing them before and she looked as if she spreading out a winning hand on a poker table covered in bills.

Then she laughed and lifted up the hanger until my jugs were hanging from it, the tiny teeth on the clips tearing at the trapped aureoles like lobster's claws. If Gale wanted me to make me beg for mercy ... well, if that was what she wanted, she got it. Because I would have said anything to make her ease her grip on those fucking clips.

My tormentor finally relented, letting the hanger down a fraction of an inch and putting one of her heavy boots up on the side of the bed.

"OK. Philippa, how's the company induction going so far? Having fun? Ready to meet some more friends of mine?"

"Gale, I'll do whatever you want me to, anything at all," I gasped out.

"Yeah, is that right? OK, then I'll make this an introduction first and then see what happens afterwards."

From somewhere she got two canes. "Philly, say hi to Mr and Ms Chopstick. You might think they're canes but I've got a better use for them that whipping your dumb ass. If I get anymore arguments out of you, slave girl, I'm going to push one of them up your cunt and the other up your asshole, as far as they'll go. And if you think you're hurting now, gal, you don't know the half of what that'll feel like."

"No, no, Mistress, I'll do whatever you want me to," I promised -- loudly.

"Let's find out, Slave."

She sat down on the bed and stared down at my face. And then I felt her hand between my opened thighs again. No teasing this time though, no foreplay, but a blatant fingering and stroking and penetrating. I was being felt up as if I was a man's lover but it was a female's hand which was doing it. Again, all I could do was to close my eyes and pretend it was a man doing this to me, the most desirable man I could imagine.

Gale's voice was a growl from the back of her throat, like a big cat growling and lashing its tail in warning of an attack: "I'm still not getting your full attention, am I, Philly?"

The canes rattled against the hangar as Gale slid them between the wires and my skin. And then she lifted up the canes and the hangar as well, making me beg for mercy again.

"Fuck me, Mistress, do anything you want with me, please!"

"Thank you, Slave, I think I'll do just that little thing. Now let's hear you enjoying the effort I'm putting into pleasuring your hot little snatch."

There was no alternative. Not only did I press myself as hard as I could against her fingers, I gasped and yelled and whooped like a Indian at the top of my voice as Gale played with me. There was no way that any man could have matched her skill in bringing me closer and closer to an total orgasm: it was as if she was lighting a fuse in my body which could only end in a shattering explosion. And when it finally happened I screamed out my delight without Gale doing anything more than staring down at me as if I was some kind of an animal she was experimenting on.

Afterwards, as limp as a empty suit, I watched as she took off the hanger and leaned over me. Gale gently played with one of my sore breasts, watching my reaction as if it were some kind of way of talking to me with touching instead of words. But then she did speak.

"How are you feeling now, Slave?"

"OK, Mistress," I answered quickly, aware of the clips and the canes till within her reach. "I feel fine."

"That's good, that's great. So let's give you a little massaging here."

As gently and softly as before, she began to squeeze both of my tits, and massaging was exactly the word I would have used myself to describe what she was doing, a smooth, comfortable, comforting massage. This time I closed my eyes and whimpered not in denial but with real pleasure from feeling Gale's hands on my body.

"I've wanted you ever since I first saw you, Slave. Now you're mine and just to prove it I'm going to untie your hands. But you'd better be a good girl for me, or I'll make you a very sad and sorry slave girl. Are you hearing all this, honey?"

"Yes, Mistress. I'm hearing everything you're saying," I answered obediently.

"Now there's a good little bitch."

Again, she rolled me over onto my front, but only to untie me. Then I felt her unhook my back suspenders from the stocking tops. "On your back again, Slave."

I guess it's a truly weird thing to say but obeying Gale's hard edged voice seemed to be becoming almost a natural thing to do. After she'd taken off the rope and finished stripping me I shivered and wondered what the next set of orders were going to be. Whatever they were, I knew I was so completely under Gale's control that I would have to follow them.

Why didn't I mind about that? Maybe because when somebody else is giving the orders all the responsibility is lifted off your back. Maybe that was my trouble in life, I always wanted somebody else to carry the load, even down to something as basic as sex. Well, if a bedroom boss was what I'd unknowingly been craving for, I'd certainly found one in Gale.

As soon as I was naked at her feet -- or, to be precise, at the tips of her boots -- Gale grabbed a tuft of hair and pulled on it hard enough to make my eyes water.

"You've had the easy part so far, my precious little slave girl. I've given you some fun, so now it's your turn to give me some. If you've got any problems with that this is not a good time to mention them, OK?"

"Yes, Mistress," I gasped. "I mean, no, Mistress."

"That's good to hear, my little maid servant. But there's something you can do with your tongue that'll be even more fun than listening to it. You're going down for a nice long count, Slave, and I'll tell you when you can come up for air again."